Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Turkmenistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Derrick Morgan to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Oneida,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Sherman,
Von Mondo,
Desert Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
The Seeds,
Thompson Twins,
Brothers Johnson,
Pierre Henry,
Dead Boys,
Connie Case,
Girls At Our Best!,
Chrome,
Minor Threat,
Sight & Sound,
Man Parrish,
Maleditus Sound,
Ronnie Foster,
Kerri Chandler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ituana,
James White and The Blacks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Johnny Osbourne,
Skaos,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Vainqueur,
The Blackbyrds,
The Buckinghams,
Cymande,
Faraquet,
The Doors,
DNA,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harpers Bizarre,
Accadde A,
China Crisis,
Quando Quango,
La Düsseldorf,
Bauhaus,
The Vogues,
Smog,
Shoche,
Sarah Menescal,
Minutemen,
Judy Mowatt,
Graham Central Station,
Malaria!,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Barracudas,
Camberwell Now,
Colin Newman,
Alice Coltrane,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Black Dice,
Sun City Girls,
Yazoo,
Pantaleimon,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.